Fireflies

My mind is a fickle thing,
Steady though  it may seem.
But like pebbles in a stream,
I too roll with the flow,
And follow a dozen  dreams.
Watching fireflies from below,
 I chase the brightest glow.
Until I find one brighter still,
And then after that I'll go.
But there again I lose my will,
Someone beats me to the kill.
I start again, like I must.
At times, I'm calm and still,
Like a particle of dust.
But it only takes a gust
To lift me in the air.
Away from instincts and trust;
Away from worldly care.
Yes! Ill keep circling there,
For as long as I may wish.
I know reality is where,
Everything and body is.
But sometimes I really miss
This fickle part of life.